Tag Archives: Funny

The Placelandian National Anthem

Placelandia! We celebrate

The nation that is not a state,

The place where politicians come to die!

Where residents have common sense

And our plan for national defense

Is not to be a dick to folks nearby.

Placelandia! We celebrate

Our lack (so far) of Watergate

Or other nasty scandals of that kind.

Where citizens think differently

And something backs our currency;

A country built with happiness in mind.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

A nation that can safely be ignored.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Where drama-seeking tourists will be bored.

Placelandia! We celebrate

That here nice guys can get a date

And nobody is told they must comply.

Where everybody owns a Glock

And Fox exec Rupert Murdoch

Would not have had to cancel Firefly.

Placelandia! We celebrate

A place mostly devoid of hate,

Where legs just shave themselves if given time.

We hope you have enjoyed this song

And pop stars didn’t sing too long

Before the very easy ending rhyme.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

It’s a pretty snazzy kinda joint.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Okay, okay, okay! We get the point!

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Filed under Lyrics, Poems, Songs

Thanks State-Funded Early Childhood Education!

I read my child the story

Of a little red poultry whom

I respect, thus its female genitalia

Did not cause me its gender to assume.

My child looked up and said “Parent,

“I like when you do funny voices

“But why can’t we read about princesses

“Then make our own damn political choices?”

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Filed under Poems

The Solvers and The Havers

Most men enjoy solving problems;

It gives them a meaningful life.

Alas, this is not something wanted

By most men’s eventual wife.

A man will fix up an auto,

A house, a business, a toy,

But it’s not solving problems but having them

That I’ve noticed most women enjoy.

A woman takes pleasure in saying

“I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m gross,”

Because other women say “me too”

And by such connection grow close.

If a man tells another “I’m hungry”

Another will say “have a snack”

And the problem is solved with five words

And the men to their task may go back.

Now the trouble occurs when the solvers

Treat problem-lovers the same:

A woman says “I’m bored,” and the man

Says “go play a video game.”

Now if the woman obeys him

She’ll prob’ly no longer be bored

And thus need another discomfort

Until her drama-quota’s restored,

So the man has given a solution

Which really won’t help her a bit

So she says “you don’t understand me!”

And runs off and calls him a git.

The man is confused by her answer

But has a solution to that:

He says to himself “bitch be crazy”

And then changes the sink in his flat.

So men, if you want to help women

Be happy then here’s what to do:

Have lots of flaws in your character

So she’ll always have drama with you.

And women, you know how to please a man

And don’t need advising from me,

But (as a man I must say this)

Without drama how happy you’ll be!

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The Absolutely True Diary of a Trans-Whale

I’ve always admired blue whales,

The largest animals ever

Who traverse the world routinely

And are beautiful, noble, and clever.

And so I became a blue whale

But a good choice, alas, ’tis not been.

I’m surrounded by feminist bloggers

Who just wish they could grow baleen.

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Filed under Poems

And I Realize I Should Have Forwarded Those Chain Emails After All

I stand atop the rocky cliff

Above the salty ocean blue

And shout to myself “how lovely

“And beautiful are you!”

I stand atop the rocky shore

Above the crashing waves below

And my echo calls back softly

“Whoa now! Let’s take this slow.”

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A Lie Detector Poem

Such is the river adamant:

Neither deep

Nor swift upon the rocks

Of misunderstanding,

Nor should she nod

When it means “optic nerve,”

Or so the sages said.

Two times the wolf.

Two times the narrator.

So why is this a lie detector?

Just read this to someone and ask them what it means to them.

If they say “it’s crap,” congratulations! You have an honest friend.

If they say “the bit about the wolf was chilling” (or anything else, for that matter) you have a suck up, a liar, or (worst of all) a PhD on your hands.

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Filed under Poems, To the Reader

Forgettable Anecdotes Are Born Of These

For everything there is a first:

First kiss, first game, first beer.

For everything there is a last

But we don’t celebrate those here.

For everything there are middles

Unless first and last are the same,

But we tend not to notice these

‘Cause they all seem just the same.

So I challenge you today to share

Your one-thousand-second baseball game,

Your six-hundred and eighth bus ride,

The fourteenth passing of a flame.

You never know how special

The present will someday get.

Besides, people tweet food pics

So you’re still less boring than the net.

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Filed under Poems

Nothing Good Stems From Small Talk… Get It? Stems?

I think I know why plants don’t speak

And the reason is this:

They cannot pronounce the word

“Photosynthesis.”

My other hypothesis

For why speech is elusive

Is that plants are politically moderate

(But evidence is inconclusive).

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Filed under Poems

What He Does Have Are A Very Particular Set Of Skills… Skills He Has Acquired Over A Very Long Career…

He’s an average Joe

Except for really rotten luck

And in a single setting

For the whole film he’ll be stuck

While he tries to save his family

From a grand conspiracy

‘Cause that’s what folks’ll pay to see

Liam Neeson do!

He seems to only star in films

Whose titles start with “the,”

Except of course for Schindler’s List

And Taken 1, 2, 3.

He’s a frequent award nominee

For both his movies and TV

Which shows that people love to see

What Liam Neeson do!

His six-foot-four-inch figure

Makes all women want to burst.

He’s never died (‘xcept in the Star Wars

That used to be the worst).

So if you go to see a show

Then you should already know

The feats he’ll do (and in slow-mo)

To show off more his manly glow

And yet somehow we still all go…

To see what Liam Neeson do!

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Filed under Poems

I Respect These Hypothetical Natives

Somewhere where the roaring wind

Can give the snow a gentle lift

A solitary wolf begins

To sing the music of Taylor Swift.

And the natives nearby lie awake

Roused by the song from their nap

And pray the wind will roar even louder

To drown out the wolf ’cause who needs that crap?

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Filed under Poems